


Darcy's Letter

by AthenaScarlet



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Mr. Darcy's Letter, References to Jane Austen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 18:39:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2078895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthenaScarlet/pseuds/AthenaScarlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A friend talks Pam into writing Jim a letter to tell him how she feels. Set in the second half of season 3 and inspired by Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [More Than That](http://mtt.just-once.net/fanfiction) (Jam-specific Office fan site) in March 2007 under my other pen name, sharky.
> 
> Original story notes: "I love Pride and Prejudice so I had to do something about it. How could I not? So here's my attempt at a P&P/Office crossover. It's a little nerve-wracking since I know there are others who love it just as much so I hope I did this justice. Oh, and a little shout out to my friend Stacy who made me give this book a second chance in the first place. I had three amazing, amazing, AMAZING betas for this, so thanks to fireworkfiasco, peskipiksi, and xoxoxo for telling me it's better than I thought it was. :)"

Like every other weeknight, Pam walked into her empty apartment and dropped her purse by the door. She turned on the kitchen lights and quickly rummaged in her cupboard for a clean wine glass before grabbing a Lean Cuisine out of her freezer and throwing it in the microwave. _Wonderful_ , she thought. _It's a Friday night and I'm home alone with some macaroni and cheese and a bottle of Pinot._

As she grabbed the white wine from the counter, she noticed the light flashing on her answering machine. "Please, machine, don't let it be Roy drunk dialing me," she pleaded out loud before cautiously pressing the button.

"Beesly! It's Liz. It's Friday afternoon and...Jane! Stop eating that! Apparently, my daughter can't stop eating dirt from the potted fern long enough for me to make a phone call. Anyway, Fitz is on a weekend writers' retreat somewhere and I'm going to be bored out of my mind tonight. Please call. You know, if you don't have a hot date or something because I can totally understand if you blow me off for some art boy or...Jane! I have to go. Call me!"

Pam smiled as she heard the microwave beep. She grabbed the plastic tray of mac and cheese and set it down on her kitchen table next to her glass, thinking about all the things she had to tell Liz since they last talked a few weeks ago.

Liz Bennett was totally awesome in Pam's mind. They met in Pam's first class at Marywood University almost ten years ago now. It was a boring political science class that was required of all students and by the end of the first session, she and Liz had struck up a friendship in the back of the room making fun of the professor. The next day, they showed up in the same art history class -- Liz ended up being an art history major while Pam took it get more knowledge for her painting classes.

Since then, they had been through a lot together, especially sophomore year when things really changed for the both of them. Roy was working for Dunder Mifflin and he and Pam decided they wanted to buy a house, which meant Pam had to drop out of school to work. Liz, meanwhile, got bored one night and went to a local book reading where she met another Marywood student. The next day, she described him to Pam as "cute, but nothing special." In fact, Fitzwilliam Darcy, or Fitz as his friends called him, was a bit of a pretentious writer type and Liz wanted only a little to do with him. But he asked her out on a few dates and she took a chance by saying yes. They didn't go very well and, as a last ditch effort to win her heart and change her negative perception of him, Fitz wrote her an amazing letter that even Pam still remembers to this day.

The letter worked. Liz and Fitz's wedding was in Philly at a gorgeous Gothic church with the reception in an amazing hotel ballroom downtown. It was just such a beautiful night that was only made better when Roy took full advantage of the open bar and passed out in the hotel room while Pam was downstairs having a great time with her friends without him. Roy could be such as ass sometimes, but unlike Fitz, he never tried to redeem himself. He just assumed that it was OK to be the requisite drunk at weddings...and funerals...and happy hours down at Poor Richard's while Pam was his baby-sitter.

_It's amazing how our lives have changed since we met_ , Pam thought as she dialed Liz's number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Pam!"

"Pam! Oh, thank God you called! If I didn't have a chance to talk to you tonight, I would have gone to bed with the Teletubbies theme stuck in my head," Liz explained.

"So I take it Jane's asleep now?" Pam asked.

"Finally. You would think that if I named her after my sweet, quiet sister that she could have picked up the same traits."

"Maybe it's just the Terrible Twos or something," Pam tried to say soothingly. "Even though she's not two yet."

She could hear Liz's laugh on the other end. "Better than nothing," Liz said. "So how are things?"

Pam explained the whole situation with Roy and how it was officially over, the whole thing with Jim and the fact that he was still dating that girl that followed him from Connecticut. On the other end, Liz talked about her daughter, her husband, and all those times she thought she was raising two kids instead of one.

"I love my family, don't get me wrong, but I keep trying to explain to Fitz that just because he's writing novels in his spare time doesn't mean he has to use all of his spare time just for that," Liz explained.

"That sounds familiar," Pam said. "Even when I tried dating Roy again, his spare time was spent with his brother instead of me. I mean, that guy went on, like, half our dates with us!"

"And how many dates was that?"

"Um...three including my art show and the happy hour when I dumped him."

"That sounds...annoying. Hey, speaking of which though, how was the art show?"

_Horrible._ "It was OK," Pam lied. "Roy and his brother left after wandering around for five minutes so that was good.."

"Typical Roy," Liz said sarcastically.

"Yeah. Like I said, I dumped him."

"Which I'm so happy about! Although you know how I feel about Roy."

"The same way I do," Pam responded. "He's an ass."

"And you deserve better."

Pam scoffed a little as she poured herself another glass of wine. "Yeah, I know. Speaking of which, Jim never showed. It may have partially been my fault for not directly inviting him, but I sent an email to people in the office -- including him -- and he never responded. He hasn't even said anything since or even asked how it was!"

"Was he with that Karen girl that night?"

"I guess. I don't even know. Maybe she talked him into not going or he just forgot or something."

"I'm so sorry, Pam," Liz said, sounding almost as heartbroken as her friend.

"I dunno, Liz. At times, I feel like I'm making these steps forward and then there are other times where I just feel like I'm trying to hang on to keep myself from sliding down a steep hill."

"I would say that Roy was indeed like sliding down a steep hill," Liz said."Pam, I know you don't want to hear this, but I think the biggest obstacle in your life right now is Jim. You need to say something to him.

"Liz, I tried flirting with him by talking about REM cycles."

"Wow. You have been out of the game for awhile, haven't you?" Liz said, a bit of a laugh in her voice. "But seriously, you need to have a real conversation with Jim about how you feel. You need get it all out there in the open."

"But I can't find the words when I'm around him. Talking is just not a good idea right now."

"Then write him a letter."

Pam couldn't help but laugh at that suggestion. "A letter? Just because Fitz wrote you the most amazing of all amazing letters doesn't mean I can do the same thing."

"It was pretty amazing, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was."

"But writing is really a great way to get those thoughts out of your brain by putting them on a piece of paper. It makes your thoughts more concrete and all those things you want to say you can say without having them get muddled as they come out of your mouth."

"Maybe I'll write something and then decide."

"That would be a good start. In the meantime, I still have Fitz's letter in my desk drawer upstairs. I could easily fax it over from Kinko's on my way to the grocery store Monday morning."

"Wow. You would fit me in before the grocery store?" Pam said teasingly.

"It would be the highlight of my day."

"What if you don't fax it over? What would the highlight of your day be then?"

She heard a slight pause on the line. "Um...teaching my daughter to beat up that obnoxious three-year-old at our playgroup who keeps putting sand in her diaper."

Pam laughed. "Well, if faxing it over makes you feel better..."

"It will." Liz's reply sounded sincere and genuine. "Pam, you just...you deserve to be happy and if this is what it takes to get you on that path, then I'll do what I can, OK?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Pam, listen to me," Liz said. "There were so many times I heard you tell me about all the stupid things that Roy did over the years, and there were so many times I heard you tell me all those great stories about Jim. You know Roy won't work for you because you've tried that -- twice -- and it's failed twice. You deserve to be happy or, at least, happier than you were with Roy. Maybe in the end, it won't work out with Jim, but you have to at least go for it and see what happens."

"But what if a letter doesn't change anything?" Pam asked quietly.

"At least you tried. You owe that to yourself," Liz said as a quiet fell between the two friends for a few seconds. "So on that note," Liz said sarcastically, "I'm digging out the letter to fax it to you on Monday, OK?"

"OK," Pam told her.

"And I'm headed to sleep. Between a daughter and a few glasses of wine, I can't stay up past 11 o'clock anymore."

Pam laughed. "You're getting old."

"I resemble that comment!" Liz retorted. "Alright, Beesly. Take care."

"You too."

"And really, Pam? Promise me that you'll at least try to take a step forward with Jim, OK?"

"Yeah."

"No matter the outcome, it'll be worth it."

"I know," Pam told her, but she wasn't really sure if that was true.

"Alright then. Get some sleep, Pam."

"'Night, Liz."

Pam hung up the phone and took in the quiet of her apartment. She took the empty glass and wine bottle to the sink and walked to her bedroom She put on her warm penguin pajamas and crawled under the flannel sheets of her bed. There were times when she liked that it was just her in this quiet apartment and as she lay in bed, alone with her thoughts, she was happy this was one of them.


	2. The Conversation

Jim walked in and hung up his coat, giving a quick glance to the reception desk like he had done every morning recently. Luckily, Pam wasn't in yet so he had a few minutes of alone time before he would start feeling her eyes staring at the back of his neck again. He told himself it made him uncomfortable because he was dating Karen, but that excuse would only be able to stand up for a bit before he started thinking about what he really suspected. Maybe Pam was interested. Maybe this whole thing with Karen really was a rebound for him because he only wanted Pam.  
  
Then he would remind himself that Pam left Phyllis' wedding with Roy. Usually at this point in the morning, right when he started remembering that image of Pam walking out with Roy, he would hear the office door behind him open and Pam turn on the computer at her desk.  
  
That would be when he would get pissed off again. Jim had spent so many times listening to her bitch about Roy, knowing that he would treat her better than that if given the chance, and it was all a waste. She never really was listening to him. She went back to Roy anyway. And yeah, they had broken up again -- three weeks ago and rather spectacularly, according to Kelly -- but there was still that part of him that was mad at Pam for even thinking about starting over with that douche bag.  
  
So they weren't talking. It was one of those big fights where no one says a word and he wasn't about to be the one to make the first step and try to bridge the gap between them. She was going to have to make the first move and say something, but so far, she just sat there. All day.  
  
After another one of those days of silence, he saw Karen walking over to his desk with a smile on her face.  
  
"Hey."  
  
"What's up?" he said, turning to her with a smile.  
  
"My latest Netflix showed up so are you up for bringing Chinese to my place? Say, around 7?"  
  
"Sounds awesome."  
  
"Ok, I'll see you then," she said, leaning down to lightly kiss him on the cheek. He tried to tell himself she just did that to be cute, but he also assumed she was trying to make Pam jealous. She never acted like that before they had their heart-to-heart talks and he told her about that kiss in the office.  
  
He watched Karen walk out the door before turning back to his desk to finish some last-minute emails and, well, he was trying to stall so he could leave after Pam instead of getting stuck in some awkward elevator conversation or something.  
  
Tonight, though, as everyone else quickly left the office to start their weekends, he felt Pam's presence next to him.  
  
"Um....Jim?"  
  
"Yeah?" He turned to look over at her mousy brown hair that was falling over her shoulders as she stood there staring at her feet.  
  
"I just...I um...here," she stammered, holding out an envelope for him to take.  
  
"Um...ok. Thanks," was all he could get out in return.  
  
He watched her eyes follow his hand as he took her gift before she gave him a little nod and walked out the door.  
  
He looked down at the off-white envelope in his hand. It seemed to be the heavy cardstock he tried to sell last week, but then he noticed it looked more like nice parchment paper you could buy at a stationary store instead of the bulk stuff Dunder Mifflin sold. The outside had his name written in Pam's handwriting with what he had guessed was a black fountain pen.  
  
Jim looked up to see if any of the camera crew had left for the night. The guys seemed to be packing up their equipment in the conference room after filming some stock footage earlier that day, so he discretely slid the envelope in his messanger bag rather than opening it at his desk. He didn't know what was inside, but he didn't want the camera guys to know either.  
  
Ignoring the last emails, he quickly turned off his computer and grabbed his coat from the rack. He got out to the elevator and was about to push the button before quickly slipping through the door to the stairwell. He learned a few weeks ago that the cameras could find him in the parking lot after he was caught kissing Karen one night after work.  
  
But at the same time, he had to open Pam's envelope. The thought of not knowing what was in there was going to gnaw at him and he would have to open it at a stop sign or something. Better to just get it done with now.  
  
He pulled it out of his bag and looked at it again. It was so simple and plain looking with the name "Jim" as the only noticable thing on the outside. He turned it over in his hand and reached for the flap. It opened easily -- he noticed Pam had only moistened a little bit of the envelope glue at the tip. Jim smiled, thinking about the time a few years ago after she and Roy got in a fight. He felt bad for her and the next day brought in this little sponge bottle that she could fill with water to moisten envelopes and stamps. He noticed it was still on her desk a few weeks ago when they were still on speaking terms.  
  
Jim saw more of the off-white parchment inside the envelope and pulled out a letter -- three full pages and handwritten. It looked like Pam had used the same fountain pen as the one she had to address the envelope. Like his name on the front, the handwriting was much more thought-out than the scratches on her little message pad everyday, each word deliberately written on the paper. He leaned back against the wall of the stairwell with his left foot hanging two steps lower, uncreased the folds of the letter, and began to read.


	3. The Letter

Jim --

Please don't be alarmed by this letter. I'm writing it with no intention of hurting you. I only hope you can give me your attention and understanding. I know your feelings for me may not allow you to, but I ask it out of the sympathy of your heart to do this for me.

I know neither of us have talked to the other lately, I know feelings have been hurt again, and for that I am truly sorry. I've realized in the past year that there have been many times -- both before you left and after you returned -- when I hurt you. I hope you believe me when I say it was never my intention to do so. Jim, I thought there were times when you had feelings for me. In looking back at my actions towards you since the day I met you, I realized there were so many instances when I should have seen that. And frankly, there were times when I definitely felt it, times when I could just see the light in your eyes when you looked at me in the middle of the day. Then I would go home with Roy again at night and feel this darkness, this ache, and all I wanted was that light from you again. But when I looked back on those moments, I've realized how I must've caused you pain. I still can't forgive myself for that and I can't tell you in words how truly sorry I am for all those times. You have to believe me when I tell you it was never intentional. As much as there were times when I just wanted to touch you or kiss you, I held back thinking it was going to hurt me too much and be too hard for me to change the things that had been put in motion in my life. By the time I realized that I could change things and it would be ok to take a leap of faith, you were gone and you had left because of me.

I also know you were probably hurt by the fact that I never told you myself that I cancelled the wedding, but I can't apologize for that. Out of everything that happened that summer, I was more angry with you than with Roy. You expected me to immediately change my life after you were the one who finally made a decision to say something. You wanted me to change ten years of my life, to change the future I had expected for myself because of your actions on one night. You turned my world upside down and then left me at a time when I needed you the most. You never called me even after I found out that you knew the wedding was cancelled. You completely dropped any connection with me. You punished me for not making my decision fast enough for you. Yes, maybe I should have called you, but maybe you should have called me too.

And now I'm alone while you have someone in your life. I know I probably can't compete with Karen. I know she may be smarter, prettier, or more ambitious than I am. But Jim, you never gave me a chance to compete. You could have at least given me a chance to fight. You could have at least taken my invitation to go out and have coffee, to talk about all the things that WE missed in each others' lives while I was here and you were there. I never got that opportunity.

In the end, it was because of Roy and his actions that ended our relationship, not because of you. And it was because of Roy's actions in the past month that I ended our relationship again. Everyday, though, as much as I hurt in the months afterward, I am so thankful to you and what you said to me that night last year. You made me realize that I could be happy, that I deserved to be happy, and that you wanted nothing more than to see me happy. For that, Jim, I am so eternally grateful to you. I only hope you understand that my words are the same to you. Roy wasn't the right person for me, I can see that now. Jim, I can also see that Karen isn't the right person for you. You don't seem genuinely happy with her and I don't want you to make the same mistake that I did by wasting so many years with someone who didn't truly appreciate me. More than anything, Jim, you deserve to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted for you and I believe that's all you ever wanted for me.

I want you to believe that everything in this letter comes from the truth in my heart -- all the good and all the bad. I just couldn't keep silent anymore, especially after these weeks of darkness between us. I couldn't sit quietly by any longer without at least telling you how ardently I admire and love you.

Pam

***

Jim laid the last page of the letter at his feet. He took a deep breath and suddenly realized his cheeks were wet with tears. He had no concept of time or of how long he had been there, but he didn't want to get up either. He just wanted to sit and digest it all.

Pam's criticisms of him were warranted and even more so now. She needed him last year when she called off her wedding and she needed him this year to tell her that going back to Roy again was a mistake. He was her friend and as her friend, he should have been there for her when she needed him the most, both then and now. But both times, he seemed so wrapped up in how he felt, in what he wanted, in how he was hurt, that he never considered reaching out a hand to help her as his friend.

Jim's back began to ache from leaning up against the wall, so he stood up and grabbed the letter from the floor. He made sure each page was safe from creases or wrinkles as he carefully folded it back up and delicately slipped it into his bag. He put his arms through the sleeves of his coat and took the stairs down instead of going back to the elevator.

The lobby of the building was empty and quiet with only the slight hum from the florescent lights in the ceiling. He walked through the parking lot to his car -- the only one still left there -- and drove home.

Jim sat on his couch that night and reread the letter another four times. Each time, he let go of more of the pride that held him back from letting Pam fill that one piece of his life that would finally make him feel whole.

He checked his voice mail before going to bed. There were four messages from Karen -- he had completely forgotten about going over for dinner. He just didn't feel the need to remember anything about her anymore.

 


	4. The Reconnection

_So much for writing that letter_ , Pam thought as she stared at the back of Jim's neck. She was hoping his skin would start to burn just above his collar from her lethal glare. She had been trying it for a few days now, but it still wasn't working.

Any time she took a break from that, all Pam could think about was that stupid letter she wrote. When they got back into the office on the Monday after she gave it to him, Jim gave her his usual morning brush-off. Tuesday was more of the same. Wednesday she ran into him in the kitchen and curiosity got the best of her.

She watched him pour his coffee as she grabbed her yogurt out of the fridge.

"Um...so...did you read the letter I gave you?" she asked tentatively.

"Yeah," he said nonchalantly before quickly walking out the door.

_You're such an ass_ , she thought as she watched him go back to his desk.

She had no idea what all that was about, but it had been a week since she handed him that parchment and the only other conversation they had had was about the FedEx schedule. All she knew about him that entire week was that he read the letter and he needed to get something to corporate by 10 a.m. the next morning.

Everyone left around 5 o'clock that Friday afternoon -- she noticed Jim and Karen leave at different times, but didn't really care. She stuck around for an extra hour getting all her work done at a quick clip now that Jim's neck wasn't there to distract her.

She finally finished the last of her files a little past six o'clock and shut down her computer. As she was about to turn the lights off, Pam heard the door open. She turned to see Jim walking into the office. _He probably just forgot something_ , she thought bitterly as she took her hand off the light switches and walked past him as quickly as possible with her head down so she wouldn't have to see him. She got as far as the doorway before she heard his voice behind her.

"I've been waiting outside by your car for the last hour."

"Sorry?" she asked, turning toward him.

"I was waiting for you to leave so I could talk to you about your letter."

"What about it?" she asked, a bit defensively.

"It sounded like something I read in my high school English lit class."

"Oh," she said, a bit dejected. Of all the things to say about her letter, _that's_ what he had to say.

He smiled a little at her. "I liked that. It was very...regal?"  He scrunched his nose up a bit and rubbed the back of his neck. "Why can't we always talk like that?" he asked her.

"Regally?"

"No, um....I knew there was a reason I avoided talking about this," he said, sounding more like he was just talking to himself than Pam. "This is all coming out wrong."

"What is?" she asked him.

He looked over at her, then dropped his bag on the ground and sank into the grey couch by her desk. She watched him put his face in his hands before lowering them enough so she could see his expression again. He looked weary. "We're never good at saying what needs to be said, are we?"

Pam laughed slightly and felt the feeling come back to her legs. She walked over and sank down at the other end of the couch, folding her foot underneath her. "That sounds about right."

He looked over at her with this warm glow in his eyes. "I mean, your letter was so...I dunno. I've read it at least once a day since you gave it to me. I got so wrapped up in it that first night that I kept reading it over and over and completely forgot about..." His expression immediately changed and he looked down at the carpet, letting a silence fall between them.

"You forgot about Karen," Pam said, finishing his sentence for him.

"Yeah. We had dinner plans that night."

"I bet she wasn't happy about that."

"No," he said quietly.  
  
Of course , Pam thought. Despite all of it, she still couldn't compete with Karen. "Well, I don't want to get you in trouble for a second week in a row," she said curtly, starting to push herself off the couch.

"We broke up," she heard him say.

"Oh," Pam replied, sinking back into her spot.

"And I mean, it wasn't just because of you or the letter or anything. It just...you were right. She didn't make me happy."

"I'm sorry," she said. "You do know that I didn't mean to hurt you when I said that?"

"Yeah."

He exhaled deeply and leaned back against the couch. "How did we get here?" he asked. "Maybe we should just stick with writing letters to each other for the rest of our lives."

Pam smiled. "I don't think that's going to work."

Jim looked over at her again with a serious expression on his face. "I have to at least tell you I am sorry, exceedingly so. I got so wrapped up in everything after that night and everything that happened... All I remembered was walking away from you and it just hurt me too much to even think about you after that."

"And I'm sorry you had to hear about me cancelling the wedding from someone else."

"Yeah, it probably would have been easier coming from you than Kevin."

She looked at him a little shocked. "Wait, Phyllis said she emailed you. How...how did you hear it from Kevin?"

He laughed. "We were doing preseason fantasy football picks and he mentioned you were as hot as a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader after dumping Roy. I emailed Phyllis after that. But yeah, still shocking."

"That I was as hot as a cheerleader?" she asked sarcastically.

"I knew that already," he said, a quick smirk on his face. "No, that you dumped Roy after you told me you weren't going to." He looked down at his hands again. "Like I said, you were right. I should have given you more time."

"And I should have called."

The office became quiet with only the fluorescent lights buzzing above them and a few random computers humming around the room.

"Pam?"

"Yeah?"

"When did you first realize you loved me?"

She tried to think about it, but came up empty-handed. "You know, I can't remember the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words. I was just in the middle before I knew that I had begun."

He smiled. "I feel the same way about you."

"And you never gave up on me."

"Well, you never gave up on me either," he replied.

"I got a little hopeless at times, but then something would happen and I would realize that I couldn't give up on you."

He looked at her quizzically. "Like what?"

"Karen told me you guys talked and that you said we had kissed."

"And that made you hopeful? That I told Karen we had kissed?"

She smiled at him. "She said you told her that it was 'just a kiss.' I know enough about you that I was certain that if you had been absolutely, irrevocably against me, you wouldn't have lied to Karen about our kiss."

"And you would be right," he said. "It was alot more than that."

They smiled at each other and Jim shook his head a little. "What a mess," Pam heard him utter under his breath.

"So listen," he said, becoming more animated. "I was kind of standing outside for awhile and this conversation got a bit intense and now I'm hungry. Would you want to maybe go get a bite to eat?"

"Oh...um..."

Jim quickly started to stammer. "If you have plans, I mean, that's ok. I was just seeing if...I mean, we can go another time."

"No, I um...I had a date with my Tivo tonight, but that can easily be rearranged," she said sarcastically.

"Oh. Good!" Jim pushed himself off the couch and reached out his hand to help Pam up. "Anywhere in particular?"

"Somewhere fast and cheap."

Jim smirked. "That's what's she said."

"I hate you," she said in a tone that sounded more like I love you more and more everyday.

"What about that diner down the street? You know, that one with the green awning?"

"Pemberley's."

"Yes! How could I forget that? They only have the best grilled cheese in Scranton."

Pam looked quietly at him. "You were gone for awhile," she said, only sort of referring to the grilled cheese.

Jim put his bag on his shoulder and smiled. "It's good to be back," he said quietly.

As they were about to walk out, Jim went over to look at Pam's painting hanging on the wall. "You know, now that we're talking and all, I have to ask you about this."

"What about it?" she said, moving to stand next to him.

He gave her a contemplative look. "I never understood why you painted it. I mean, you could paint anything in the world -- flowers, trees, whatever -- and you did a picture of our office building."

She looked over at the painting and smiled. "I did a painting of the parking lot. The building's just in the background."

She knew she didn't have to explain it any further as she walked over and turned off the lights in the room. Jim followed her our silently, locking the door behind him. As they got on the elevator, Pam kept thinking about that night when Jim had put it on the line for her. He looked over at her and sliding her hand into his, she leaned over and kissed him gently. She lingered on his warm chapped lips until she heard the elevator doors slide open. He squeezed her hand and didn't let go as they walked out into the crisp night.

It was a small gesture, but after tonight, she knew she would have plenty of time to go further.

* * *

"OK, my husband is in the right seat, my daughter is having a great time with the baby-sitter, and the flowers are all set up."

Pam looked over to see Liz walking in to the room, looking gorgeous in her light green bridesmaid's dress. "Good. I'm glad your husband's in the right seat for my wedding."

Liz answered in a sing-song sarcastic voice. "Well, this is your wedding day so we all know it's all about me," she said. "Oh, and Dwight is taking his job as usher very seriously."

Pam thought about Dwight directing people in the church with his grandfather's tuxedo that he insisted on wearing. She wished she could go out there to thank him, but was already in her dress so it was probably better not to.

"So is there anything else you need?" Liz asked.

"Oh, yeah! Can you do me a favor and run something over to Jim?"

Pam reached into her wedding bag and carefully pulled out a letter. It was written on parchment with the fountain pen she used two years ago for the first one. "Tell him he has to read this before the ceremony," she instructed.

"What kind of monster have I created?" Liz said, rolling her eyes as she walked out the door with the letter in hand.

In the few years she had spent with Jim, Pam learned that sometimes it was just easier to say what needed to be said on paper.


End file.
